Resurgence
by Foxtrot Agent 21
Summary: Fire team Vinegar isn't the most respected Spartan IV team and their current assignment is a perfect example of this: escorting a handful of civilians on a goodwill mission to an Insurrectionist outpost. Where other Spartan teams are fighting for the fate of the galaxy they are stuck with babysitting duty. That said, even simple missions can go horribly, horribly wrong. (T4Cursing)
1. Prologue Pt1

She sat across from the rebel leader who glared coolly at her with his feet on the metal table in between them. Behind her stood two rebels equipped with the outdated MA37 assault rifle, though she supposed she couldn't judge them for their antique weaponry; this particular Insurrection offshoot hadn't been heard from since before Reach had fallen. And that's why she was here. Four years after the events on the Ark the UNSC was still struggling to rebuild their former colonial empire, revisiting former colony planets and salvaging what they could. Mostly, they found glassed wastelands left in the Covenant's wake. Occasionally they would find planets that had managed by a miracle to remain off of the radar of the Covenant or, even more rarely, planets that had fought off the alien assault.

This planet was no such case. Sargasso had been attacked, seized, and subsequently abandoned by the Covenant. The only reason that the Insurrection was here was that they'd managed to get back to the former resort world before the UNSC could. They had already established a handful of settlements on the habitable parts of the planet and were working to rebuild the planet's former glory. Taking the planet from the UNSC was just the icing on the cake.

She was currently being held in what she could only assume what the rebel command building in a small room with one door and no windows. It was obviously meant to be their version of an interrogation chamber, which she found to be a bit absurd. They were treating her like a combatant or some kind of criminal! She was here on legitimate reasons: the discussion of colony reabsorption with this settlement's governor, a man named Arthur Guillorine. She had landed at the designated landing zone but she and her entourage had been immediately apprehended by the rebel soldiers.

"So I take it you're not going to listen to our proposal?" she asked the leader finally, a short man in what looked like repurposed ODST armor. The scars on his face told of a life of combat and his uniform, despite being obviously quite old, was still in decent shape. A former Marine, perhaps?

"Yeah right," the man scoffed, spitting something dark into one of the two cups placed before him, "I simply want to know what the hell the UNSC thinks they're doing putting troops on the ground- _my_ ground."

"I've told you before, we're not soldiers," she protested, shaking her head in exasperation. Why did rebels have to be so hard headed?

" _Two targets, 237 and 239 meters, South entrance." "… They're down."_

"We're ambassadors from the UEG here to discuss terms for the reabsorption of Sargasso back into the Colonies. There was absolutely no reason to take me and my friends hostage like this."

The leader laughed at that. "Well, that's not going to happen, darling. But I'm going to have to ask you to go into details on your little landing party."

" _Roger that. Twins, move up."_

"Fine," she closed her eyes as she sighed, leaning back as far as her restrictions would allow, "What would you like to know?"

The rebel leader took his feet off of the table and sat a little straighter. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting such complacency. It's a nice change for dealing with UNSC lapdogs. Let's start with your name and rank, if you would."

" _Ghost, we're in position. Orders?"_

"I'm Sarissa O'Bannon, civilian contractor working with the UNSC for negotiation purposes," she ignored his comment, recognizing it for the bait it was. "My 'landing party', as you called it, came here with the purpose of speaking to this settlements governor. I take it you aren't him."

"God no," the rebel laughed again, some genuine amusement in it this time, "I'd never want Arthur's job. Too much paperwork."

"So what, you're the primary military leader around here?"

At a nod from the leader one of the rebels behind Sarissa kicked out her chair from under her and she let out a gasp of pain at the sudden strain the handcuffs put on her wrists as she fell. "Don't misunderstand your situation right now, Ms. O'Bannon," the leader scolded her as she got off of the floor and glared at him, "You're my prisoner and I ask the questions. Now, I don't like hitting a lady, but Arthur doesn't even know you exist. There'll be no repercussions for my actions if you piss me off, understand?"

" _Hide the bodies, standby. Zero?"_

"Yes," she hissed out as one of her rebel jailors set back up her chair. She was liking this guy less and less the more time she spent with him.

"Great! So, where did your ship come from? The UNSC warship in orbit?"

"It's a simple _Charon_ -class Frigate, hardly a warship. But yes, we did depart from the _Prophet's Regret_ in order to land outside your settlement," Sarissa took note of the increased interest the leader showed at the mention of the Frigate's name. Had he heard of it somewhere before? "However, as I said before, we have no connection with the UNSC. I can't tell you much about the ship or her crew; nothing at all, really."

"If only I believed that," the leader sneered. Sarissa closed her eyes again, if only to prevent her from glaring at her captor again. Just how long would she be forced to deal with this guy?

 _I've found them, Ghost. Most are in cages near the mess hall. One is in the command building, 150 meters to the east."_

"Regardless, I'm familiar enough with the specs of a run-of-the-mill Frigate. Let's move on to your entourage."

"What do you mean? We came unarmed; we didn't even bring any Marines with us as bodyguards."

"Yes, as a show of good faith, right?" Sarissa nodded hesitantly. There was another nod from the leader and then the back of her head exploded in pain and her head bounced off of the table. One of the guards had punched her! "Let's also keep the bullshit to a minimum, okay, Ms. O'Bannon? No way in hell would the UNSC send six civilians down to an Insurrectionist settlement without an escort of some sort. We searched your Pelican: nothing. So, where is your backup?"

Sarissa coughed as she struggled to sit back up. She felt dizzy and couldn't seem to focus on the rebel in front of her. _'So that's what being punched feels like, huh?_ She thought with a rueful smile, _Hurts like hell._

" _I'll take the solo. Twins, go free the group. Get that data back to the Pelican, Zero."_

"Oh? And what are you smiling about?"

Sarissa shook her head to get her red hair out of the way, her green eyes glaring daggers at the smirking Insurrectionist. "You won't get any information out of me because there isn't any to get. My only purpose on this planet is peaceful negotiation with this settlement's leader!"

"You keep saying that," the leader frowned at her as he crossed his arms, "but I just can't believe it. You arrived without even a warning, landing not even a kilometer away from this camp. That's ballsy behavior for someone who just wants 'peaceful negotiation'."

"What do you mean? The _Prophet's Regret_ sent a transmission before we even left the ship," Sarissa was genuinely confused; the Captain had told her that everything was in order for her to complete her job, yet everything had turned out so wrong.

"See, there's that bullshit thing I talked- wait," the leader's brown eyes widened as he had a sudden realization. "You didn't know."

"That's what I've been telling you!" she yelled, unable to contain her anger any longer. She flinched as she heard the rebels behind her step closer again, but a raised hand from the rebel leader stopped them before they punished her.

" _This is Ghost, in position. Everyone get ready to go loud. They in place, Zero?" "Ready for your command, boss."_

"Listen to me carefully, woman," the leader was standing now, looming over her seated figure. "When the UNSC sent you down in that Pelican, what did they tell you about it?"

The rebel looked angry but Sarissa thought she could sense an underlying emotion… anxiety? "Just that it had been repurposed on a previous mission for supply transport so there wasn't as many seats as there usually are."

"That's it? What the fuck are they planning…" the rebel leader started pacing around the room, muttering to himself. Sarissa stared at this strange new behavior and could almost feel the unease of the two rebels behind her.

"Um, Jon?" one of them hesitantly asked, "What are you thinking?"

The rebel leader, Jon, apparently, whipped around to face the rebel and Sarissa heard the guard take an involuntary step back at the intense look in Jon's eyes. "The UNSC sends a Pelican just outside of an Insurrectionist base with minimum crew and a handful of passengers with absolutely no weapons or other form of protection. The Pelican is modified to allow for extra cargo to be carried, but we find nothing and our scanners say that the Frigate hasn't launched any more birds or drop pods," Jon turned his intense gaze back to Sarissa, "The UNSC knows you've been captured, Ms. O'Bannon, yet they haven't sent reinforcements. We haven't even heard so much as a peep from them in regards to your capture."

Jon closed his eyes as he pondered the problem and Sarissa found herself holding her breath as she tried to follow his train of thought. "So," she began, "if they haven't bothered to send someone to rescue us, then what does that mean?"

The rebel's eyes flew open and he let out an involuntary gasp. "They're already here!"

" _Light 'em up."_

Suddenly the building shook as a tremendous explosion erupted nearby. No, not an explosion, _multiple_ explosions. Sarissa curled her body inwards as the detonations continued, the force of it all shaking dust from the ceiling. She could hear the rebels yelling something, could see Jon's mouth moving as he tried to give orders, but the sounds he made were made unintelligible when compared to whatever bombs were currently going off.

And then there was blissful silence.

As quickly as the explosions had appeared they were gone, leaving Sarissa and the rebels stunned. Jon was the first to recover and quickly pulled out a small holo-phone, mashing a few buttons and yelling into it, "Richardson, what the fuck just happened out there?! Richardson?! Dammit!" he threw the apparently malfunctioning device on the ground, glaring at it for a moment before they heard gunfire echoing from outside of the building.

There was uncontrolled panic fire of automatic weapons interjected occasionally by small bursts of fire and screams as people fell to them. The rebel leader gritted his teeth as he glared madly at Sarissa and she found herself wishing she was anywhere but near him. He probably blamed her for whatever the hell was happening right now.

He stared at her for a moment longer before gesturing to the two rebels behind her, "You two, train your weapons on the door. They're undoubtedly here for our prisoners which means it won't be long before they come here for her. We won't let them have her!" he snarled as he stalked over to her, pulling out his magnum and shooting the chain connecting her handcuffs to the table. As soon as she was free he grabbed her blouse and put his arm around her neck, setting her body in between himself and the door. ' _What a way to go,'_ she couldn't help but think to herself, _'used as a human shield in a shootout between rebels and the UNSC. Technically what I signed up for, but hardly fair play.'_

The rebels overturned the steel table and set it up as quick cover, the two with assault rifles kneeling down with their weapons pointed at the wooden door. And then they waited. The seconds seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace, serving only to intensify the tension in the room. After a full minute had passed she felt moisture hit the top of her head as Jon began to mumble profanities to himself. While she refused to allow herself to lose composure in such a way she couldn't help but agree with his sentiments: the waiting and uncertainness was worse than anything the rebels could've done to her.

And then she heard it. A rhythmic tapping, accompanied by a faint whine. It was getting louder, closer, and it wasn't long before she heard Jon cease his cursing as he heard it too. It was clearer now and it suddenly hit her that it was the sound of someone running, and towards them at that. But it didn't sound like they were running towards the door; no, it sounded more like they were running towards… the wall?

As soon as she formed the thought the wall to her left exploded in a shower of dust and debris and the room's occupants all let out small shouts of surprise as the force of it all knocked them from their feet and to the ground. Sarissa was thrown from Jon's grip and landed on her side, unable to move as her head rang once again but clearly able to see the figure that stood where the wall had once been.

It was huge, standing easily seven feet tall and seeming to leer over the prone humans. It was as black as charcoal, with orange tribal markings spread throughout its body. And its face… its mouth was entirely black, but in the space where its eyes should have been was a vast, white void. It relayed no emotion nor any indication of the figure's intentions. It was eerie in a way that was beyond words. And for a moment, Sarissa forgot her situation and just stared at the entity, fear robbing her of her senses as it swung its eyeless gaze around the room before settling on her.

Just what was it going to do now?


	2. Prologue Pt2

Just what was it going to do now?

"Die, you monster!" one of the guards suddenly screamed, jumping up from the ground and training his assault rifle on the figure. It retaliated with lightning quickness.

It dashed forward, a black blur as it backhanded the rifle out of the man's hands with one hand and lifted him by his throat with the other. It stood like that for a moment, staring silently at the suffocating rebel. Time seemed to slow as the rebel's struggling slowed until he was barely moving at all. When the figure spoke its voice was raspy, mechanical, and yet somehow unmistakably human, "There was a wall. Now there is no wall. Would you like to be a wall?" An acrid smell filled the room and the figure nodded. "Good answer."

It dropped the rebel and turned its attention to the other guard who was staring at it much like she was. "Don't worry," it told him, "it's not you I'm after." It moved past the fear stricken man towards her and she cursed her sudden inability to move. And then the rebel leader was in front of her, his magnum drawn and aimed at her prone form.

"That's as far as you go, Spartan," Jon growled as he glared at the figure.

A Spartan? As in, the Spartans? And just like that everything made sense again: the black figure wasn't a monster or a demon but a super soldier of the UNSC clad in armor so powerful it had turned back the tide that was the Covenant. Had he been sent here to rescue her?

"Jon Athams, correct?" the Spartan asked as he cocked his head to inspect the man more thoroughly. "As it happens, I'm actually here for you."

"Oh? Not here to rescue your spy?" the rebel leader let out a bark of laughter, "Aren't I popular."

The Spartan ignored his comment, "Rescue of the civilians is secondary to your apprehension. Will you come peacefully?" Athams opened his mouth to give what was likely going to be a negative expletive when there was an explosion of blue light from behind the Spartan and then he was suddenly directly in front of the rebel. The Spartan wasted no time disarming the Insurrectionist, knocking away his weapon in the same manner as before and then tossing Athams away with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. A sidearm appeared in the super soldier's hand, looking to be an elongated version of the standard M6H2. There was an almost inaudible cough accompanied by a barely noticeable muzzle flash and then Jon Athams's life ended. The Spartan quickly trained the weapon on the two prone rebel guards and dealt with them in a similar fashion; all they could do was let out noises of protest as he ended their lives with brutal efficiency, unarmed as they were.

Apparently satisfied with his work the Spartan walked over to Sarissa and offered her a gloved hand. She stared past it at his black and white helmet. "You… killed them," she whispered, unable to decide between accepting the Spartan's help and running away from him.

"Yes ma'am," the Spartan told her matter-of-factly, "Extermination of rebel military forces is our secondary objective to the rescue of your team. Besides, there's no way they'd just let us walk out of here after I killed Athams."

"But, you said that I was a secondary objective?"

"I lied, Ms. O'Bannon," the Spartan grabbed her arm, obviously tired of waiting for her approval, and hoisted her up. "Can you walk, ma'am?"

"Um, yes," to prove it she started moving forward towards the hole the super soldier had left in the wall before the Spartan took the lead. The next thing she knew they were sprinting down the halls, though to her it seemed more like the Spartan was jogging so as not to leave her behind. "When did you get here, Spartan?" she yelled at his back as they ran, doing her best to ignore the carnage the Spartan had left behind on his way to rescue her.

It wasn't until they got outside of the command building that she first saw another living person- and the Spartan put a stop to that anomaly wherever he saw it. His battle rifle, the BR85N service rifle that she had noticed many Marines aboard the Prophet's Regret equipped with, let out deadly bursts of fire each time the super soldier saw an Insurrectionist stumble out from the ruins of the burning rebel camp. His aim was always perfect, and those rebels who would have attempted to halt their progress were put down before they could even so much as raise their weapons.

The fact that he did all of this while running ahead of her did not slip her notice and as she became ever so slightly acclimatized to the situation she began to notice more things going on in the camp. A streak of bright blue to her left and then the ear-shattering roar of some high caliber weapon claiming another life. To her right a thunderous crash followed by high-pitched barks of gunfire, each punctuated by mechanical pumping sounds in between shots.

"What the hell is going on?" she screamed as the Spartan got up from where he had a moment before been tackled to the ground, resuming his pace as though he hadn't just snapped a man's neck in the instant before he'd hit the ground. She'd heard the propaganda, same as everyone else, but this was ridiculous!

"My team is working to clear the way for your team to leave this camp," the Spartan informed her as they came upon a clearing which contained a few rudimentary steel cages. He did a quick sweep of the area with his battle rifle before lowering it and touching the side of his helmet with his non-firing hand. "This is Ghost, Twins bring out the captives."

"Gotcha, boss," a filtered female voice said from somewhere behind them. Sarissa whipped around, shocked to see another Spartan not three feet behind her. Like the male Spartan, this one towered over Sarissa, though this one had pink detailings on her black armor and a squat helmet with a glowing square in the center of it. The Spartan's submachine gun was held loosely in her right hand and her stance told of a confidence bordering on arrogance. The female Spartan waved with her non-firing hand as though signaling someone behind her and Sarissa peered behind the newcomer, hoping to see her team. She was not disappointed.

"Sarissa!" one of her coworkers, an older man named Daniel Strick, shouted as he ran up to her. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

Soon enough, the rest of the group was surrounding her as well and once again it was hard for her to concentrate as they bombarded her with questions. It felt like an eternity as they stood there, each person in their diplomatic team simply glad that they were reunited and in the process of being rescued. It was honestly more of a thrill than she had felt in a long time and she couldn't help but grin at the thought of it all.

Then she felt a large armored hand on her shoulder and the happy feeling fled. "I appreciate the reunion moment but we're still in danger. Save it for when we leave this camp." Ghost brushed past the civilians and got to the edge of the group before turning back to stare at her.

"Oh, right. Of course," she cursed her sudden inability to come up with a clear train of thought; something about this Spartan was just off-putting as Hell! And it wasn't just her: her entire team had been seemingly at ease with the woman Spartan, but with Ghost they had all clammed up. Rachel had even started shifting her weight from foot to foot as though eager to run away from him.

They started moving again, the two Spartans taking point of course, when the female elbowed Ghost. "There was no need to scare them like that, Ghost," she chastised him, though Sarissa could tell that the female was saying it less as an admonishment and more like she was trying to get a rise out of the taller Spartan.

Ghost, for his part, ignored her comment. "I take it Tee One is guarding our backs?"

"I thought I was Tee One?" the other Spartan seemed to whine before she let out a small burst from her SMG at an enemy Sarissa couldn't see.

"Yeah, right, I need someone I can trust for your buddy pair, Tee Two."

Tee Two was silent for a moment before she sighed, "I need to get a new helmet."

"But then we wouldn't be twins anymore, E," a new voice started in and another Spartan was suddenly beside the two others. This one had green highlights, but from what Sarissa could see he had the same helmet as Tee Two. He was even bigger than Ghost, so big that the shotgun he cradled in his arms looked like a child's toy until you compared him to a normal human being like Daniel or herself. Then you just realized that this giant was doing what he could with what he could.

"What? That's not how that works!" the female Spartan argued, and the green one erupted into laughter.

"Of course it is! Our fearless leader said it to be so!" Tee One, Sarissa assumed this newcomer to be, left their group as quickly as he had appeared in it. From where he had veered over to the right she heard the same high pitched gunfire as before and she realized that it was his shotgun she had been hearing all this time.

And then he was right next to her, loping along at an easy pace. How was he even that mobile? Sarissa couldn't even begin to fathom and simply stared at him in wonder as he continued his banter with his twin. She had always heard stories of Spartans being people straight out of mythology; impossibly strong, fast, deadly. Given what these Spartans had shown that was obviously true, but these Spartans were nothing like the anti-social, silent warriors that she had heard Marines whisper and ODSTs mutter about.

"Will you two be quiet?" she stood corrected. It appeared that Ghost didn't approve of their idle chatter while on a mission. The two Spartans shared a silent glance that their leader couldn't see and then snickered.

"Boss, we're less than two hundred meters from the Pelican, me and E can finish escorting the civilians," the green Spartan said and the pink one was quick to chime in, "Yeah, we've got this. You take O'Bannon and get out of here."

"Roger," came Ghost's immediate reply as the Spartan came to a sudden halt, grabbing Sarissa's arm as he did so. "Have Zero on standby in case we run into any issues on our way out."

"Hey, wait a second!" she heard Daniel protest as he attempted to turn back for her was but was picked up effortlessly by the collar of his shirt by the pink Spartan.

"Sorry sir, they've got a different destination in mind," Sarissa heard her say as they started to get further away, though E didn't sound sorry about it in the slightest. Sarissa watched her team until they were out of sight before turning to the giant who was apparently waiting for something as he looked around.

"Um, Ghost?" she managed to not flinch when the Spartan's intimidating helmet whipped around to stare at her, something she took a little pride in. "Where exactly are we going now? I thought this was a rescue mission?"

"It is ma'am. That being said, you were sent down here with a purpose, weren't you?"

She was a little taken aback at the Spartan's frankness. "I thought, in light of our capture, that negotiations with the rebels were being called off. Especially if you people-" she internally cringed at her word choice "-were called in."

The Spartan held up a black gloved and his helmet tilted down a fraction of an inch. Then his head snapped back up and he turned away from her and set off in a sprint, weapon at the ready. "I just got our next destination waypoint, let's go."

She struggled to catch up with him for a moment before he noticed and slowed down to a light jog, waiting until she was just behind him to start moving quicker. "Sorry about that," was that… embarrassment she heard through his helmet filter? "I sometimes forget other people can't run like that. Regardless, to answer your question, we were going to hit this camp regardless; as a matter of fact we were on your Pelican when they arrested you."

"What?" 'That's impossible,' she thought to herself, 'that Pelican was empty except for my team.'

"I'll show you later," the Spartan promised as he jumped over the fiery remains of a military grade truck. "But the negotiations are still going to take place. The governor won't let us land our birds inside the city, so the plan is to steal a vehicle from the rebels and deliver you there personally."

Sarissa, for her part, opted to run around the flaming vehicle. "So then why did you send my entire team with me?"

The Spartan let out what she could only guess was a sigh. "There were a lot more vehicles here before we started shooting. As it is, we're lucky Zero was able to locate a relatively undamaged vee-hic for us."

The two continued to run through the burning camp, the smoke blocking out the night sky while the flames cast shadows and illusions that had Sarissa jumping at imagined enemies. Had she been on her own here she doubted she would've made it out unscathed, and yet Ghost seemed to know exactly where he was going at all times. Honestly it inspired her with a confidence she desperately needed now that she was so far out of her comfort zone. If she just followed his lead, she had no doubt they'd make it out of this just fine.

The Spartan came to a stop and she followed suit, resting her hands on her knees as she breathed heavily. "Alright," he told her, "We're here-"

And then an explosion sent her flying backwards and her vision went dark.


End file.
